Weller Family History
by ShinyShimaron
Summary: Ever wonder about the ancestors that made Conrad the awesome perfect killing machine he is today? This story is a day in the life of each of Conrad's 135 ancestors, from Laurence to Dunheely, and everyone in between. Kickass has a new name: Weller.
1. Laurence the Luscious

**Weller Family History.**

Summary: We know very little about the Wellers whose badass magical seed produced the Chuck-Norris-like Conrad of today. Who were they? Were they all just as awesome as Conrad is? What did they do with their spare badass time? Well, fear not, curious denizens of the internet! I have uncovered records on every single Weller in the family line, from Laurence to Chuck to Esperanza to Dunheely (and two incarnations of the Great Sage). This is a day in the life of each of those 136 badass men and women.

Warnings: General kickassery, Weller overload.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Laurence Weller, Choppy the Self-Mutilating Weller, Dunheely Weller, or Conrart Weller. All of the other Wellers have been created by me.

**Laurence the Luscious  
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_Born Year 18 B.S. (Before Shinou), Died Year 56 A.S.G.H.A.K. (After Soushu Got His Ass Kicked)_

They found him crouching down, clutching his arm, in a ditch by the fields of Morika. Corpses were hanging over the edge of the trench, trickling blood that had nowhere else to go. It pooled around Laurence Weller's boots.

"My lord!" cried Zipporah, running towards her king, "Are you hurt?"

"No," he said, rising slowly to his feet. He shook his arm and tightened the bracers around his wrists.

"They're getting bolder every year," came the voice of Horatio as he stepped over the bodies littering the trench. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a shield and flexed his muscles.

"As long as a Weller holds the throne of Dai Shimaron, we shall be safe. The alliance between Dai Shimaron and Shin Makoku is too strong for these small rebel forces to overcome." Laurence brushed back his graying hair from his face. The look in his eyes did not match the confidence in his voice. If this had been an Old Spice commercial, he would be the king your king could smell like.

"Well, at any rate, this group of idiots is dead," said Zipporah, turning over a bandit's head with her spear.

"Not all of us! And we aren't idiots!" came the squeaky voice of a bandit from behind them. They turned to look.

"Have you come to die with the rest?" asked Horatio.

"No, you big dummy! I'm here to defeat you demon-lovers!" Stu Markina lifted his stupid hero sword and charged.

"Markina, please," said Laurence Weller as he sliced off Stu's sword-arm, following it with a roundhouse kick to the head. Stu crumpled to the ground.

"Take that!" cried Zipporah victoriously.

Laurence turned around dramatically. There was a light in his eyes.

"May he rest… _in pieces_."

Then he lifted his arm and high-fived his son, swaggering back to the castle where he ruled.

And thus was the founding of an empire.


	2. Horatio the Narcissist

**Horatio the Narcissist  
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_Year 13 – 89, born to Laurence and Ariadne_

The bodies piled up in the hallway. Perhaps a barrier of enemy corpses could be constructed to keep the enemy forces at bay?

"Hmm? Did you say something, Zippy?" asked Horatio as he flexed his muscles in a mirror, flashing his blinding white teeth.

"I _said_, we should build a wall of corpses to make it harder for them to get to us!"

"That's a stupid idea."

"Oh, right, mister, 'I'm so sexy and awesome but too lazy to come up with any ideas on my own.' What do you got?"

"I'm a Weller, I'll think of something."

More enemies charged down the hall. Zipporah ran through two at a time, then roundhouse-kicked the third in the face.

"Hey!" cried Horatio, turning from the mirror, "That's the Weller signature move. You can't do that!"

"Useless piece of Markina turd," muttered Zipporah as she began rolling corpses up to the door.

"Excuse me? Useless? Who the hell else would make sure these mirrors worked?" he spotted another mirror.

"Don't you dare-"

He flexed. Zipporah took a deep breath and grabbed her spear.

"That does it! I'm sick of you insisting on coming out here, fighting these random nameless badguys, only to stare at yourself in the mirror while I do all the work! What is wrong with you?" More soldiers rushed from behind as she ran them through, her back still to them.

"How did you _do _that?"

"You had better get your rear in gear and help me finish this mission, or the king won't have an heir to the throne any longer." Horatio yawned and obliged, and they plodded along the hallway once more.

"So, why are we here, anyway?" asked Horatio.

"Your father sent us to clear out more of the resistance."

"Man, those guys need to get laid, or something."

"Yeah, well-" she was interrupted by the smacking of feet on the floor. The two of them flattened themselves against the wall to see a group of four soldiers running towards an outer room.

"The leader's base is this way!" cried one helpfully.

"We know, dummy! We've been here for months! What's the point in telling us again?"

"Well that made it easy." Horatio strode towards the door that they had run through.

"Don't you think this is a trap?"

"Zippy, these people are idiots. They can't even tie their shoes. Didn't you see them tripping over each others' shoelaces back there?"

"No, because I was too busy fighting while you were making out with your own reflection."

"Trust me, there is no way that this is a trap…" They had reached the door. Above it hung an ominous sign.

_The Hall of Mirrors._

Zippy threw her hands up. "You have got to me kidding me. I mean, what the f-"

"BRING IT!" yelled Horatio as he kicked down the door. Sure enough, it was a room covered in mirrors, head to toe. Opulent and beautiful.

"But you know what would make this even more beautiful?"

"Can't you just walk through the hall-"

"ME!"

"Screw it, I'm leaving you behind," and she ran down the hall to her destiny, where a group of thirty bandits awaited her.

"Wait up for me, Zippy!" Horatio cried. He took one step into the room. Ever since he was young, he had never been able to look in a mirror without flexing and reaffirming how dreadfully sexy he was. It was a sad compulsion. He heard the sound of swords clashing in the far room.

"I'm coming, Zippy, I'm coming!" he called. He took another step, then turned around and flashed a smile into the mirror. Another step, another mirror. This time he mooned himself. Two bandits charged and he ran each one through the torso. Blood spattered on a third window and he stopped to flex his biceps.

Ten minutes later he had made it to the end of the hall. He opened the door, and gasped in horror.

Blood everywhere. Corpses hanging from the ceiling. And on a bloody throne in the middle sat the band's new leader.

"Can you believe it? Their leader was one of the Markina brothers," said Zipporah, twirling a hat on her finger.

"Did you seriously kill all of these guys by yourself?"

"Uh, yeah? So?"

"Only a Weller could have done something so badass and amazing."

"Um, hello? Are you dense? You realize what a slut your father is, right?"

"What are you talking about?" Horatio crossed his arms.

"I'm your illegitimate sister, dummy. The king has had like fifty of them. He can't keep his goddamn pants on. Everyone knows that. I thought you were just pretending to be dense."

"So I am not a unique special snowflake?" Horatio gasped.

"No. You're just a wanna-be Mary Sue in a land full of Mary Sues. These rebel bandits don't stand a chance."

"Well, at least my arm is still special," he said, holding up a goblin to see his own reflection.

"You just keep telling yourself that, buddy." She looked around.

"There is no other exit, is there?"

"No, why?"

She sighed. "We gotta go back through that hall again."

"Damnit!"

"See you on the other side, bro."

And once again, Horatio stepped into the hall, turned to a giant mirror, and flexed his left bicep. It was the Weller Family Secret. And it was super special awesome.


	3. Magdalena the Irritated

**Magdalena the Irritated  
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_Year 48 – 149, born to Horatio and Meridia_

Her mighty sword swung through the air with a whistle. With a _thwuck_, three decapitated training dummies fell to the floor.

"A fine attack, Your Highness," said the towel attendant, holding out a towel.

"Clearly, the Weller family line continues strong with your ascension to the throne," said the exposition attendant, expositing.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," said the sarcastic attendant.

"Why do I have you guys on the royal payroll again?"

"You promised to create jobs, what with the rebel bandits razing our cities and forcing us to move inland," said the exposition attendant.

"It was a rhetorical question." Another training-dummy-head went flying.

"Are you going to need another towel anytime soon? Because I gotta pee."

"Great job, Gary. Real professional," whined the sarcastic attendant.

"Okay, training is over, get the hell out of here." Magdalena Weller sighed, ruing the day she promised a job for anyone with working vocal chords and towel-ready arms.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, it's an emergency!" came the cry of the over-dramatic attendant, as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Yes, yes, what is it? Do you need your bloody diaper changed?"

"It's not that this time. _The Sage has been kidnapped_!"

"What, the old lady who sits in the temple meditating? Who would want her?" The dramatic attendant, Gregoire, wiped the tears from his eyes.

"It is the Markina brothers."

"Again? Don't we have any other enemies?"

"No. Your Majesty's brilliant wisdom has attracted the majority of the populace to our beautiful nation. Very few seek to defy-"

"So why did they capture the Sage?"

"We do not know. Apparently our spies overheard something about taking over the world." Gregoire gasped at the thought and clutched his heart. "Oh! How terrible!"

"Well, I'll go rescue her, if it means leaving you lot behind." So she gathered her badass Weller belongings and headed to the evil lair, where the Markina brothers did their evil anti-Weller deeds.

"Seriously though, what is up with these guys?" Magdalena asked as she cleared the brush leading to the cave, her long brown hair tied in a knot.

"You see, Your Majesty, the Markina brothers never approved of your grandfather, that is Laurence Weller's ascension to the throne. They are opposed to the demon kingdom of Shin Makoku and seek to defeat anyone who supports them," the exposition attendant chimed in.

"The hell? Who brought you along?"

"Your Majesty, someone must be here to explain what is going on, or else how would you know?"

"I have eyes. I have ears. I have a frickin' brain. What is the point-" the exposition attendant's hand grabbed her arm as she was about to hack through some leaves. She turned to look at him.

"Hark! Little did the brave Magdalena Weller know, there was an ambush waiting on the other side of the tree!"

"Thanks?" She killed everyone.

"She killed everyone!"

"Couldn't you put a little more oomph in your descriptions?"

"Magdalena Weller was grumpy, as usual! If only she had hit the drugs a bit harder in her youth-"

"Sssh. We're here." The dark cave loomed before them.

"Listen, exposition attendant guy. You wait out here. I will go in and rescue what's-her-face." The exposition attendant nodded.

"And so, the brave Weller Queen entered the dark cave while her humble servant, whose name is Cesar by the way, guarded the entrance. What danger awaits her in the dank depths? Will she rescue the wise sage? Will she acknowledge her obvious feelings for her most trusted and loyal attendant? Tune in-" a bandit helmet came whizzing out of the entrance, hitting Cesar the exposition attendant in the face.

Magdalena wandered through the endless tunnels, wondering who would be stupid enough to live there. The answer, of course, was the Markina brothers. The dumbest men on earth, they relied on the strength of numbers and were often saved by the fact that they were so stupid, no one viewed them as a threat. So how, exactly, did they manage to capture the wise Sage? Magdalena had to find out.

It wasn't long before she came upon a series of crude, _Tamrielesque_ wooden doors leading to several rooms in the cave. True to their idiotic nature, the bandits had given each room its proper label. Magdalena followed the doors past the _Kitchin, Eeting Rume, Gymnayz- Werkit Room, _before finally reaching _Prizin_. The door was unlocked and unguarded. She immediately expected an ambush.

Upon opening the door, sword drawn, she entered to an ambush… but not one of the bandits' making. In the middle of the dank prison stood not a rogue band of marauders, but the wise Sage.

"Aunt Zippy?" Zipporah was standing with her spear held out in front of her, three bandit-corpses still skewered on it. "_You're_ the sage?"

"Yes, well, I got bored saving your father's narcissistic ass so I decided to become wise or something. But it's really boring. So I let these losers kidnap me so I could bust my way out again." Pointing her spear to the ground, she stepped on the corpses, pulling the weapon out of them.

"But why would they want to kidnap you in the first place?"

"Oh, you know, I'm the daughter of Laurence Weller, they think my arm is a key, blah blah blah."

"I thought I was the only Weller who had the key. Are there others?"

"There is a very specific set of circumstances that must happen for someone to be a key. For instance, you must be completely full of yourself and acknowledge your own awesomeness constantly."

"Like me!"

"Right. But I am competent, so I cannot be a key."

"You know what? I'm just gonna leave you here and go back to ruling the country. Enjoy your stay."

"It was nice to see you too, dear." Zipporah picked her teeth with the bloody spear. Another day, another crisis averted.


	4. Olga the Squicked

**Summary: **In this chapter, we learn Shinou's real name and witness the building of Shinou Temple.

**Olga the Squicked**

_Y73 – 166, born to Magdalena and Cesar_

It was the year 93 A.S.G.H.A.K. Shinou was dead. At least, that was the message that Olga Weller, great-granddaughter of the famed Laurence Weller received. Having not yet come into her inheritance and still being the princess of Dai Shimaron, she had not yet been introduced to the mythos surrounding the Original King. So when the letter arrived telling of the mysterious disappearance of Shinou, Olga decided to travel to Shin Makoku to pay her respects. Her mother, the Queen, was away defending the outer territories, and relied on Olga to perform such diplomatic duties.

Upon arriving at Blood Pledge castle, she found herself being directed to an allotment of land to the north of the castle. This was to be the Shinou Temple, where the people of Shin Makoku could worship their fallen king.

Olga headed to the yet unbuilt temple. Scaffolds marked the areas where the walls were beginning to be built. In the middle of what was soon to be a courtyard, Olga found a large tent. Upon entering, she discovered a young girl meditating.

"Welcome to the Shinou Temple, Olga Weller. You are most welcome here. I am Akara, high priestess of the Sightless-, I mean, of Shinou."

"But you're like, ten years old."

"Yes, well, Shinou likes us young."

"So are you guys founding a religion over your dead king or something?"

"Shinou is not dead. His spirit remains among us."

"Yeah, okay. Did he ask to be represented by a little girl?"

"Yes, in fact, many of us. Shinou Temple will soon be open, but only to women. It is the Original King's will."

"Don't you think that's a little creepy?"

"Listen, sweetcakes, it pays the bills." Akara straightened her shoulders.

"Would you like to speak to Shinou directly?"

"Uh, sure… where do you, like, keep him?"

"Once the temple is built, the Original King will be housed in an opulent hall where he may communicate his desires and will to the people. That will be a wondrous day! Until then…" she nudged her shoulders towards a dirty wooden box.

"He's in there." She poked the box. Nothing happened. She grabbed the box and shook it hard.

"Oooooh great Shinooooou, come out of there!"

"Damnit, Akara, what is it this time? Did you hire enough sexy underage priestesses yet?" came Shinou's voice from the box.

"Not yet, but the future ruler of Dai Shimaron, Olga Weller has come to pay her respects."

"What does she look like? Is she hot?"

"Um…"

"I bet she is hot. Wellers are hot."

Olga interjected. "So, Original King thingie, are you planning on staying the Demon King now that you are… incorporeal?"

"Well, I thought about it, but then I decided I would just find someone else who could be the King. But I would still be, like, the Original King. Because you can't beat the original. So Shin Makoku will have two kings."

"So you'll put up a figurehead?"

"Yeah, someone with both a figure and a head. Which I don't have anymore."

"Um, why is that, exactly?"

"Long story. Humans don't live long enough. Sorry. But it has nothing to do with me slowly turning into an evil person. No, I'm really good and pure and awesome. That's why I'm only allowing girls into my temple. Because they're like, pure."

"Or perhaps he is overcompensating for something," came a voice from behind them all. A man with long black hair had entered the room.

"Your Highness!" Akara kneeled.

Olga bowed as well. "You are the Great Sage, I presume, whose brilliance won the war my great-grandfather fought in."

"Yes, it is I. I am the great sage. I am very smart. Though why I allowed the construction of this pervy temple is beyond me."

"Because I ordered it! I am your king! The ORIGINAL King! And you can't get better than-"

"-the Original, I know."

Olga made a face. "Wait, so you all just call him the Original King? What was this guy's name before he was king?"

"My name was mysterious! Badass! Its very utterance destroyed cities-"

"It's Gary," said the Great Sage.

"I hate you."

"Well, this has been a lovely trip, but I think my respects have been paid," said Olga. "I think I'll head on home to Dai Shimaron. Your country is lovely though, really. And good luck with your… temple and/or brothel, whatever it is." She left the room.

"You scared her off, dick. I was about to score!" said Shinou.

"With what? Your imaginary loins?"

Olga left the country of Shin Makoku pondering her own mortality. The demons had a king to rule them forever… but with a king like that, Olga was pretty content dying young.


	5. Hans the Practical

**Summary: **In this chapter we are introduced to a new Weller family tradition!**  
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**Hans the Practical**

_Y105 – 136, born to Olga and Thierry_

In the year 136, Hans Weller took it upon himself to visit the Shinou Temple as his mother had done many years ago. He said goodbye to his wife and two-year-old son and headed for Shin Makoku.

What had sparked his need for adventure was his reading of the great lore-books detailing the keys to the mysterious boxes that contained Soushou. His ancestor Laurence Weller had been the first key. Hans wanted to know if he was indeed a key as well. The notion bothered him. Why had Shinou distributed the keys to physical people who would die? What was the point? If the boxes were never meant to be opened again, why did he needs keys in the first place? Hans wished to find out, for he felt that his ultimate purpose was wrapped up in his left arm.

The Shinou Temple had finished construction a few years before his journey. It stood grand and tall. The pubescent maidens hung out of windows and blew kisses and Hans as he entered the temple. Clearly the incorporealness of their master wasn't doing much for them.

"Hello, Hans Weller, King of Dai Shimaron," greeted Akara. "I am Akara, High Priestess of Shinou, or whatever. I will call forth his spirit so that you may speak with him." She led Hans to the great hall, where Shinou's mark stood high upon the wall. Kneeling down, she called upon his spirit.

"Shinou, Your Majesty, I beseech you to speak with me on behalf of Dai Shimaron's new ruler."

"Oh, that hot chick is back? I knew it!"

"Actually, that was my mom. It's me, Hans Weller," said Hans.

"What, another one, already? Man, you humans die fast. Hey, is your mom still alive? Is it too late to bone her?"

"I apologize on behalf of the Original King. Despite being incorporeal, his libido has yet to die with the rest of him," said Akara.

"Oh, you're no fun. Anyway, Guy Weller, what can I do for you?"

"Yeah, actually, I have a few questions about this arm thing."

"You have two arms. What about it?"

"Well, apparently you made my ancestor, Laurence Weller's arm a key to a magic evil box of doom that could destroy the world and I think I inherited it."

"Yeah, so? What's the big deal?"

Hans paused. "Well, like, why? What's the point?"

"Listen, bro, you just gotta trust me. I'm Shinou. The Original King. I know what I'm doing because I'm the _original_, and nothing beats the original."

"But, what if my arm falls into the wrong hands and someone opens the box? That seems like kinda a big deal."

"Well, if you're ever in danger, you could like, chop your arm off and throw it out a window. But make sure to yell really loud when you do it in case I'm sleeping or something. So I can hear you."

Hans pondered this for a moment. Clearly this Original King was insane. But if he was telling the truth, it was Hans' duty to do what he had to do to keep the world safe. He was a Weller, after all.

"So, what if I just chopped off my arm and gave it to you here? Then you'd have the key and no one else would, and you wouldn't have to pass it down to my ancestors."

"That's not fun! Besides, you need spare keys. I might get wasted and lose one. No, I will stick to my brilliant plan of making dozens of keys. There is no way that can go wrong."

Hans Weller pulled out his sword and held it to his arm.

"I refuse to be a pawn in your game, Original King! I would rather be parted with my limb entirely than to live my life as your mortal keyring! I hereby decree that all future Wellers will remove their arms as a protest to your tyranny! If you want this arm, you may take it!"

And with a thud, his arm fell to the floor as he slashed through it. Blood poured out of the gaping hole. He looked down at the arm.

"That wasn't so bad."

"Yeah, you should know that it's the _left_ arm, specifically, that holds the key. You just chopped off the _right_ arm."

"Oh God, really? How embarrassing for me."

"Yeah, you might want a do-over."

"Well, could you re-attach my right arm so I could use it to chop off my left arm?"

"Well, I would, but you called me a tyrant. That wasn't nice."

"Screw you then, Original Dog." He slumped to his knees, and used his teeth to turn the sword so the pointy-side faced up. Then slowly, he began sawing off his arm.

"The things I do for liberty…"

Before he managed to get his arm completely off, he slumped to the floor and died of blood loss. And that is how he came to be known as Hans the Practical. Because he definitely solved this the practical way.

"That's too bad," said Akara, looking at his lifeless body.

"That guy bred, right? I mean, we're kinda screwed if he didn't pop out a baby."

"I'm pretty sure I heard something about him having a kid."

"That's great. Well, it's no problem then. Just clean up this mess, will you? God, this temple is a pig sty…" and Shinou disappeared into Oblivion.


	6. Humberto the Punny

**Humberto Weller**

_Y134 – Y187, born to Hans and Jemima_

_Excerpts from the Famous Humberto Weller's 'Weller's Book of Jokes':_

What do you call a Weller who has opened the evil box of Soushu? _Mostly 'Armless!_

Why did the Original King miss the royal dance? _Because he had no body to go with!_

What do you call a Demon King with no eyes? _A Demon Kng._

What did Shinou say when the Great Sage accused him of being evil? _Soushute me!_

What does the Great Sage name his pet cat? _Kyou Kara Meow!_

How do the prisoners in the royal dungeons describe their dinner? _Gruel and unusual punishment._

Once my son swallowed several coins. When I asked my wife how he was doing she said, "_No change yet_."

When human women enter middle age, it gives men a pause.

Once I submitted ten of these puns to a joke-telling contest to see if I could win. Unfortunately, no pun in ten did.


	7. Carlotta the Ancient

**Carlotta the Ancient  
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_Y163 – Y138, born to Humberto and Winetta_

Old Carlotta Weller sat on her throne. She was knitting a scarf with her steel knitting needles, which she had acquired on special order from the castle blacksmith. The scarf was blood red. This was likely so the stains wouldn't show when she inevitably used it to strangle someone.

Yes, Carlotta was a tough old broad. She had survived numerous assassination attempts. They never went well, not for the assassins. Carlotta was determined to die peacefully in her sleep… or die trying.

"Your Majesty, it is time for break-"

"Oh, blow it out your hiney, Jenkins," she interrupted. "I don't need food. Did your mother teach you to interrupt an old lady's knitting session? Do it again and you will be on bunion duty." Jenkins left the room in terror.

It was soon tie for Carlotta's hobble in the garden. It used to be a walk, but as she got older she took to hobbling. Not because she had trouble walking, mind you, but to catch any would-be assassins off-guard. A purse dangling from one arm, the new scarf hanging from the other, she daintily walked among the trees with her eyes-half closed. She was the bait.

Jessop Markina was the hunter. He had waited day after day in the garden, observing the queen's movements. Every day she walked, nay, hobbled, though the flowers. The old biddy could barely walk! On this day he had finally summoned the courage to take her down. His hand gripped tightly the hilt of his sword. When she drew near, he launched himself from his hiding spot with a sharp yell.

"Die Carlotta Well-" WHAM. He flew back as the old biddy's purse, filled with bricks, hit him in the side of the head. Staggering, he then steadied himself on a tree and turned around, only to be hit in the face once more.

"Hah! A would-be assassin, I see! Want to take out Old Carlotta Weller? Well, you'll have to try harder than that, sonny!" A swift kick to the groin left him in a fetal position. He had one more opportunity. As she hobbled over to hit him again, he quickly swiped his sword along the ground to cut off her feet.

"A-ha!" she yelled, doing an epic front-flip and landing on his chest."

"The old broad just won't die!" he gasped as she ended his life.

"Not to a whipper-snapper like you, at any rate," she cackled, dropping the red scarf unceremoniously on his face as she tottered away.

"Jenkins! Breakfast! Now!"


	8. Valentino the Druggie

**Valentino the Druggie  
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_Y195 – Y251, born to Carlotta and Marcello_

_From the Diary of Valentino Weller:_

My mom's like, totally getting on my case all the time. It's like, lady, get off my back! I do what I want! I'm gonna be the king soon! I'm 40 years old! What a witch!

Man, if I wanna smoke, I'm gonna smoke. I gotta relax, you know. Running a country is tough and we can't just all sit around knitting scarves. Some of us gotta smoke a joint. Yeah, leaning against walls and smoking joints, that is the life.

It's like I was telling this hobo the other day outside of the castle walls. Bitches, man. Life sucks and I gotta get stoned. You would do the same, you person who is reading this. And it's tough, getting high. For instance, I had to mug three tax collectors to get the cash to buy some crack after mom cut me off! Can you believe it? She's responsible for, like, so much violence. When I'm king, I won't have to kill tax collectors. I'll just, like, steal from the royal treasury and stuff. You know?

Anyway, the other day, I was totally getting stoned, and mom came in the room and was like, "I've had it with you! You suck! You are gonna learn something about sacrifice!" Please, lady. I like, know all about that crap. Like the other day, I realized I didn't have enough cash for weed, so I mugged a hobo! That's like, a huge sacrifice I made vicariously through that guy.

So she sent me to this Shin Makoku place to meet this disembodied spirit. I was like, "You think I'M high, when you believe in this shit?" She said something about a royal mandate grandpa made which meant I would have to lose an arm and donate it to the dead guy. But I totally knew she was joking.

But you know what? She was totally serious, and I had to chop off my left arm and donate it to some douche. And he wouldn't even talk to me, this little 5-year-old girl said she was talking for him, and I was like wooooah. Then there was smoke everywhere and pink elephants and shit and dancing fire and naked demons hitting me with their demon magic. And I was like, bad trip! Bad trip!

Then I woke up here, and realized it was all a dream!

But the weird thing is, I'm still missing that arm! Weird, huh? Gonna make it harder to strangle those tax collectors, heheheh!


	9. Leander the Emotional

**Leander the Emotional**

_Y222 – Y311, born to Valentino and Theresa_

_From the diary of Leander Weller:_

Desperation swirls around me as I contemplate the uselessness of my life. The shadow upon my spirit is dark, and the pain in my heart is darker.

I wrote a poem for my father this morning. It was deep and emotional and truly grasped the stabling agony thrust upon my soul by his drug-addled madness. The result of his careless procreation, I must now walk through life as nothing more than a dry husk, a disgusting mélange of purple prose and moldy feelings. His reaction to the poem was not favorable. He fell to the ground, giggling in his trivialization of my pain resulting from his own selfish actions. My father does not love me. My life is horrible and I can think of nothing but ending it.

My only solace is in the one I love, who proclaims endlessly her desire to bear my children. I am sure that I will see no joy in children, who I will not be able to love due to this stump that formerly held my arm, now lifeless and gone.

I have written before of this ugly sacrifice that I was forced to make, to give up my arm to a king I do not know or love. It was an emotional time. There is no greater sacrifice than to give a piece of oneself to a cause, and no more hollow of a sacrifice than to make one for a cause you know nothing about. Woe is me! Surely my life is the worst life in the world, with the possible exception of those tax collectors who keep turning up dead. But there is sadness even in that – the subjects of my future kingdom are dying, dying away. Perhaps there will be none left by the time I rule this kingdom. I will die alone, in my room, and someday someone will come upon these writings and note how brilliant and emotional they are, and that I must have been the greatest king to ever live for making so many sacrifices. Clearly I am a martyr.

Um, brb, the wife is calling. One of the babies crapped its pants again. God my life sucks!


	10. Alejandro the Mostly Armless

**Alejandro the Mostly Armless**

_Y250 – Y339, born to Leander and Eleanor_

Alejandro sat in the war room with his fourteen siblings. One of them was to inherit the throne of Dai Shimaron after the death of their super emotional father, Leander.

"And it is now that the heir to the throne of Dai Shimaron must be named. Though it fills me with great sorrow to have to make such a choice, only one of my fifteen children must rule this country. In order to narrow down the search, only a legitimate son or daughter of mine whose arm is also a key to one of the great boxes may qualify. After that, there will be a competition to determine who is most worthy to fill this seat. To my eldest, Alejandro Weller, followed by Magnolia Weller, Fionnuala Weller, Timothy Weller, Brangelina Weller, Fancy Weller, Chuckles Weller, Ignacio Weller, Koko Weller, Sasuke Weller, Edwina Weller, Rielle Weller, Mercutio Weller, Calypso Weller and finally Dude Weller; I wish the best of luck in your quest for power.

PS: I'm dead! That sucks so much."

Thus read the will of Leander the Emotional.

"But which of us is the key?" asked Mercutio.

"Only the great Shinou can tell us which of us contains a key," said Calypso.

"Are you saying that we all need to go to Shin Makoku to talk to some dead person to find out which one of us can rule the kingdom? Why are we even subject to this?" Alejandro said pissed-offly.

"Stupid-ass demons gotta control every damn thing," piped in Koko.

But there was nothing that could be done. The 15 brothers and sisters packed their bags and set out for Shin Makoku in order to confront the Original King.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, there is a gaggle of Wellers outside of the temple!" said Akara.

"A gaggle of Wellers? Is that what they call them? I think a murder of Wellers would be more appropriate."

"What do you think they want?"

"Let those idiots in. What are they gonna do, kill me? I AINT GOT NO BODY. I'm just a gigolo."

So the gagglous murder of Wellers entered the temple and bowed before Shinou.

"Oh great Original King, I have come with my fourteen brothers and sisters in order to resolve a dilemma. You see, it is required for the true heir to the throne of Dai Shimaron to be a carrier of the key to the End of the Wind."

"Yeah, and? Hurry it up, I'm late for my appointment with the incorporeal masseuse."

"Well, could you please tell us which of us possesses the key?"

"How the hell should I know which one of you is the key?"

"Um… because you created them?"

"Fine, fine. There might be a way for me to figure out which one. The problem is, I am wasted off my ass right now. I have to see them up close."

The Wellers raised their left arms.

"Not close enough."

The Wellers stood on their toes.

"You know, with those funky German uniforms, and your arms raised, you kinda loo- NO, nevermind. You're still not close enough. I'm all the way up here by the emblem that looks like a guy with his private parts hanging out."

"We can't get any closer to you. There has to be another way."

"Well, why don't you all chop off your arms, and throw them up here?"

The Wellers looked at each other.

"Are you insane?" asked Timothy.

"No, I said I'm wasted! Wasted! Pay more attention. I hope you aren't the key, you are an idiot."

"I see that we have no choice, brothers and sisters," said Alejandro. "We must remove our arms for the sake of Dai Shimaron!" Everyone grumbled and pulled out their swords.

THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THUD THUMP was the sound as fifteen arms fells out the floor.

"This sucks!" said Koko Weller.

"Now, throw the arms up at me," said the disembodied voice of Shinou.

Blood splattered the walls as the Weller arms went into the air, bumping into each other and creating a big mess. Finally they all rested on the floor once more.

"Well, I got a pretty good look at your arms as they defiled my sacred temple. I now know which among you had the key. I mean, technically you don't have it anymore-"

"Tell us!" said the Wellers, leaning forward anxiously.

"You guys are totally gonna laugh about this later. I mean, it's pretty funny if you think about it."

"What?"

"Alejandro is the only one who had the key. I guess he can be king. Too bad about everyone else though, huh? These arms are completely useless!"

Alejandro's arm disappeared as Shinou grabbed it to save it for later.

"Wait, so we all cut off our arms for nothing?" asked Brangelina.

"Haha, yeah, you guys are idiots. Oh well. We'll feed these other arms to some hobos, it'll be like a feast! Carry on back to Dai Shimaron."

And so they did. Because they didn't have the arms to spare to bitch-slap the Original King, and even if they did, he's just a gigolo. He aint got no body.


	11. Irina of Simple Needs

**11. Irina of Simple Needs  
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_Year 290-356, born to Alejandro and Amygdala_

"Oh pretty laaaaaaaaaadyyyyy!" came the call from Irina Weller's window, for like the fiftieth morning in a row.

"Beautiful laaaaaadyyyyyy I am here to court yoooooooooou!"

"The hell you are! Shut the hell up or I will jam another shoe up your ass!"

"Yes! Talk romance with me, beautiful lady! I am only here to show you love, love like you have never felt before!" Boris Markina waved his hand up as her window. A potted plant came crashing through it and landed at his feet.

"Flowers! The lady returns my affections!" He danced among the corpses of potted plants of days gone by.

Why didn't she kill him? Well, Irina secretly enjoyed the attention. Married at seventeen, a mother at eighteen, then a widow at nineteen, she had not experienced romance like she heard in the stories, where strong powerful Wellers took their respective mates in their muscled arms and made sweet, sweet Weller love. Irina was determined to experience it, but no suitors had come to call. Boris Markina scared them away, due to his horrible case of the stupids. She had no interest in romance with a Markina, let alone such a horribly brain-dead one… but a woman has needs, doesn't she?

"Boris Markina, I am not going to give in! Just go the hell away and marry your sister like all the other Markinas!"

"But rampant inbreeding in the Markina family has led to horrible disfigurement! None match the beauty of a Weller! Your luscious brown hair, chocolate orbs, by which I am referring to your breasts, oh and also your eyes! Those are nice too!"

Irina sighed as she changed her son's diaper, wisps of hair falling in front of her eyes. Normally she would have a servant do such a thing, but on an occasion such as this… She balled up the feces-covered mess and headed to the balcony.

"_Oh my gorgeous Irina Weller, I am so in love with her, I guess that I should tell her!"_ Boris was attempting to sing.

Irina leaned over the balcony and observed his hideously misshapen face.

"What is it going to take to get you to leave me alone?"

"Nothing short of death, my lady!" he answered cheerfully.

"I don't know anyone named Charles Darwin, but if I did, they might be able to explain what is about to happen to you."

"Will you put an arrow through my chest? Alas, it has already been pierced! For I do not know anyone named Cupid, but if I did, they might have shot a figurative arrow through my heart! An arrow of love!" He ripped open his shirt, exposing an impeccable set of abs.

"A gift for you, my lady! I have been working on them for months!" Irina eyed him. Maybe… with duct tape over his mouth… and a bag over his head… maybe.

WHACK! The dirty diaper smacked Boris in the face, knocking out three teeth.

"Fine! Be up here in twenty minutes. Bring lube, and for God's sakes, wash that filth off of yourself, you disgusting pig!"

Boris fistpumped! He was finally going to SCORE! He dunked his head in the town well, an act that was sure to plague the local populace with dysentery for decades. Then he scrambled up to Irina's bedroom in anticipation of scoring.

Irina smiled. She had no intention of forming a relationship with this disgusting, stupid fiend, but at least she could run her fingers down his abs and let off some steam… it had been a long time since she had made love.

"I am here, lady!" said Boris Markina, buttoning up his shirt.

"Why are you buttoning your shirt up?" she asked.

"Uh… so we can make love!" he proclaimed.

"Take that thing off. Now." He did as he was told.

"Also your pants." He did that as well.

"Any reason why I am doing this to make love?" he asked.

"You're joking, right? You don't know how to have sex?" she sighed.

"Of course I do, I'm not stupid, duhhh! I was only kidding!" he removed his underwear too, just in case.

"That's much better. Now get with me on the bed."

"Yes!" Soon they were together on the bed.

Boris Markina looked left. Then he looked right.

"So," he said, "Is this what it feels like to score?"

Irina sighed and her eyes deadened. She shoved him off of the bed.

"No," she said, picking up her left shoe, "_This_ is."

And another one went up his ass. Maybe next week he'd figure it out.


	12. Ursula the Matronly

**12. Ursula the Matronly  
><strong>

_Year 308-395, born to Irina and Herman_

"Yes, Timmy, that _is_ the proper way to hold a machete. No, Alopecia, everyone can see through the pencil magic trick. Can't you think of something new?"

"Teacher Ursula, I gotta pee!"

"All right, Fredrico, take the bathroom pass." Fredrico left the wagon with a bloody, decapitated head hanging from his fingers.

Ursula Weller, twelfth in the Weller family line, had taken a group of students on a field trip to Shin Makoku in order to visit the great Shinou. A long wagon transported them to their destination, but she knew that it was her job to instruct her students along the way.

"Now, Nevaeh, have you finished your evil plan to murder your parents for giving you that stupid name?"

The girl smiled and held up her detailed plan that would surely land her wherever the opposite of heaven is.

"Very good."

"Teacher Ursula! Some kid is watching me pee!" came the call from outside of the wagon. All of the kids crowded to the opening to see.

"Hah! You call that pee? Stupid humans take no pride in their bodily fluid excretion!" The golden-haired youth flipped back his shiny sunny glimmering locks and posed.

"Who the hell are you, kid?" asked Ursula.

"I am a _mazoku_, superior in every way to you pathetic pieces of bear bee excrement!" He pointed his spoiled nose to the sky and looked away.

"Teacher Ursula, is he what you call, 'a dickface'?"

"Yes, children. This is one of the not-so-elusive dickfaces I told you about. You are likely to meet several in Shin Makoku, particularly in the Biedefeld territory."

"Hey!" the sickingly angelic youth pointed a firey finger at the sullen instructor, his disgustingly purpleness seeping even into the words on this page. "You show me some respect, for I am your superior as a mazoku!"

"Oh really? What do you think, children? Does he feel… superior?" They giggled. And suddenly, they disappeared.

The youth looked around, whipping his shiny-ass locks to and fro. "Where did they go?"

"Well, Mr. von Biedefeld, I'm afraid you have offended my dear children. And that is something that you do _not_ want to do. You see, I am Ursula Weller of Dai Shimaron, and these are my pupils."

"You don't scare me!"

"I don't, do I? What about… them?"

The youth turned around to find four children huddled up against him, smiling evilly. They lifted their arms as he backed away.

"_I am not touching yooooou!_" they chanted.

"Hey! Get away from me!"

Three more children vaulted from the trees, with sticky, sap-covered vines between their teeth. They tied up the youth, who struggled and spat fire out of his mouth, but there was little he could do against the cunning of Ursula's famed pupils of death.

"Aww, isn't he just _adorable_?" asked an evil little girl in pigtails, as she pulled a knife from her boot and licked it. "I think I decapitated a doll last week that looked _just_ like this one!"

The youth gulped.

"Now now, children, there will be no decapitations today. It wouldn't be prudent at this juncture. We can't go around killing helpless and pathetic demons."

"Man…" the children were very disappointed.

"However… you could make him piss his pants a little.

The children cheered an evil cheer as they advanced upon their prey. They had been wondering what to bring the great Shinou for an offering, and von Biedefeld pee sounded like something he would find _hilarious_.


	13. Lorenzo the Frisky

**13. Lorenzo the Frisky**

_Year 327-388, born to Ursula and Wally_

Lorenzo Weller stood at the doorway to his vast love den. He was shirtless, and had a rose in his mouth. In the maws of a normal person, the thorns would cut his lips and leave wicked canker sores. But Weller mouths are mouths of steel, along with certain other parts.

"Lushi, I'm hoooome!" he said sexily, though his voice was muffled by the flower.

"Lorenzo, daaaahling, you have come to make love to me?" asked Lucinda, spread out on one of the many beds that littered the tacky love-den.

"Yes, I am almost ready for our love-making session." Lorenzo walked over to a mirror, and flipped a few strands of hair in front of his eyes.

"Now I am ready."

And so they made Weller love in Lorenzo Weller's Weller Love Den. It was extremely romantic.

"Thank you for your services, scribe. You don't have to write anymore of this down. I'll take it from here." So I, the castle scribe, put down my quill and went to wash out my eyes. With acid. Another scribe would replace me tomorrow, and the carnage would continue. Shinou help us all.


	14. Michaela Doesn't Think Things Through

**14. Michaela who Doesn't Quite Think Things Through  
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_Year 359-415, born to Lorenzo and Lucinda_

Michaela Weller had seen a lot. Mostly things coming from her father's bedroom, but other, even more horrible things as well. For instance, one morning, she left her bedroom in order to see her father wandering around armless.

"Dad, what the hell happened to you?!" she cried.

"Oh, you know… made love, got up, made love, had breakfast, made sweet love, surrendered my arm in ritual sacrifice to the god of the demons, had some sweet love made to me-"

"Why would you do that?!"

"Because life is short and your mother is freaking hot," he replied matter-of-factly.

"No… dear god, why did you cut off your arm?"

"All Wellers must sacrifice their arms to Shinou at some point. It's the rule."

"But we don't even worship that guy. Why should we care?"

"It's the _law_, man."

"You're the _king_. You _make_ the law."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, honey. Well, I should say, don't worry your pretty little arm, 'cause it won't be around much longer!" Then he cackled, ripped off his shirt, and ran back into the bedroom.

Michaela decided then and there that she would never lose her arm in such a fashion. No, if she was going to lose her arm, it would be hacked off in the middle of doing something completely badass. _That_ was the Weller way.

Many years later, as Queen of Dai Shimaron, Michaela remembered her vow and set off to confront Shinou herself. Clearly after almost 400 years, he must have tired of this pointless tradition?

She entered the temple. Scantily-clad underage priestesses scattered to and fro, preparing a feast for the Almighty Original King. Truly, Michaela thought to herself, he was a great god to command his subjects so. Or a great pervert.

She entered the sanctum and kneeled down before the original king.

"Oh Great God of the Demons, I come before you to-"

"So are really people saying I'm a god now? How exciting! I'm the God of the Demons! Wait, wouldn't that make me Satan?"

"Oh Shinou, the Great Satan, I come before you to-"

"I dunno if I have it cut out to be Satan, really. I'll just stick with my scantily-clad underage priestesses."

"Are you a pervert, then?" Michaela stamped her foot impatiently.

"Not at all! I don't do anything with them. I'm quite incorporeal. It really sucks."

"Listen, I came for a reason, are you going to listen to me or not?"

"Sure, hotcakes, whadaya need?"

"I am Michaela Weller, Queen of Dai Shimar-"

"Another hot female Weller banging down my door! Too bad this only happens every hundred years or so. They're so feisty."

"They're somewhat less feisty once you chop off their arms, I presume."

"But I can have _so much fun_ with the arms once they've been sacrificed to me. I have a pile of them in my incorporeal room!"

Michaela pondered the implications of that statement for a moment, before silently renewing her vow to _never_ let him take her arm for his "fun."

"Yeah, about that… Shinou, the deal's off. I don't want to give you my arm, and my descendants won't want to either. We think it's a shitty deal."

"But I _need_ your arms! It's very important!"

"Yeah, I don't think what you are doing with them is terribly important."

"Yes it is. I'm saving them!"

"Saving them for what?"

"In the future, there might be a Weller who is _super duper badass_. He will be the most badass of them all. And if he loses an arm, I'm definitely gonna need a spare. Or several dozen."

"He? What if it's a she?"

"Hahahahahaha! You're so funny. Weller women are just eye candy."

"What?!" Michaela withdrew her sword, eyes narrowed.

"We will see who is eye candy after this!" and with a swift slice of her sword, she lobbed off her arm."

"_There_. Not so hot anymore, am I?"

"Uh, okay, no, you're pretty hideous now I guess. Congratulations. I'll just take that…" and Michaela's arm disappeared to Shinou's perverse incorporeal realm.


End file.
